The Snow Leopards' Midnight Climb
One midnight amid the chaos of the Continental Academy, Abel had heard this question.
"Hey, Abel. Don't you ever sleep?"
"I sleep plenty. Training late into the night and starting again at the crack of dawn?"
It was easy enough to misunderstand. Back then, Abel treated even sleep as a luxury he couldn't afford.
In a world of ability users, Ability Awakening was essential. And once you gained an ability, you had to refine it. The Continental Academy was the most effective place to do that. With plenty of fellow ability users and experienced instructors, you were guaranteed to gain something here. So he trained relentlessly, day and night—building stamina, honing skills, drawing out his powers.
Of course, he didn't pull all-nighters. Sleep wasn't optional; it was mandatory. More important than food, even. A person could go days without eating and not drop dead—just lose some strength. With water, that was plenty. But sleep was different. Miss even one or two nights, and your body felt like lead. Even a short nap was better than nothing. Quality rest, no matter how brief, was paramount.
Abel stuck to that religiously. At the academy, he'd cut back on sleep hours but compensated with methods to maximize its quality.
So, naturally, upon returning to the family estate, Abel headed straight to his room and bed. He'd review the day's training results, plan tomorrow's tasks—but never stay up all night. Now, with everything done, all that remained was to lie down and be asleep within a minute.
"…?"
A strange sensation prickled at him, and Abel sat up. Odd. This had never happened before. He got out of bed and scanned the room—as if checking if he'd forgotten something or if anything had slipped in unnoticed.
Nothing unusual. Maybe just his imagination. Still, he didn't return to bed. Not finding anything inside, he cracked open the door. That wasn't enough, so he checked the windows too, peering everywhere.
"Ah."
"Eek."
And finally, he pinpointed the source of that eerie feeling.
Right below his window, the twin duchesses were building an ice tower, stealthily climbing up.
"…What are you doing?"
Abel had been the one leaving everyone else baffled until now. But this time, even he couldn't hide his astonishment.
His first thought: Are they here to prank me and got caught? If he'd gone to bed just five minutes earlier, he wouldn't have noticed. Even if they'd climbed in and ambushed him, he wouldn't have suspected a thing.
Or maybe these twin duchesses are secretly high-ranking Ability Supremacists?
He mulled it over briefly, then shook his head. Nah, doesn't fit. Traitors often had that archetype—stunning looks, top-tier abilities, impeccable backgrounds. No reason for them to fall into that trap. Sure, stories sometimes shattered logic for fun with quirky traitors. But there were limits. A traitor needed at least some hints. And some motive.
Irshu and Tarshu showed none of that. If it was an attack, they'd had chances before and never taken them.
If not that… then why?
The surest way: just ask. Most effective option right now. Gazing down at the window, Abel extended a hand toward the two duchesses.
"Come on up first. The night air's chilly."
"Can I?"
"Really?"
"If I was going to tell you not to come, I wouldn't have stuck my head out like this, right?"
Knocking at the door might've been different. But scaling the wall at night via ice tower? Even charitably, that wasn't normal.
Accepting the room owner's invitation at last, the two duchesses entered Abel's private space. They glanced around curiously, then spotted his bed and spoke in unison.
"Going to sleep?"
"Yeah, I was. But I felt something weird, so I checked—and there you two were at the window."
Wonder if something happened in the room? But even if there was trouble, the proper response was opening the door and calling servants—not sneaking out a window.
Then a faint scent tickled his nose, and Abel blinked. "Have you two showered?"
"How'd you know?"
"Warm water smell, plus a nice fragrance."
"How's the scent?"
"Really good."
Not flattery—it truly was. Hard to pin down: sweet yet refreshing, elusive.
"Flower from the north."
"Bath salts made from it."
"Winter Duchy grows flowers? News to me."
He'd assumed the harsh north had no room for blooms. Good to know. Might come in handy someday.
"Flowers. Exist. Bloom even in cold."
"Tough. Toughness makes scent strong."
"Makes sense. But seriously—you showered, dressed in sleepwear, even used abilities to climb right under my window. What's the deal? That's what I'm dying to know."
Irshu and Tarshu exchanged glances, tilting their heads. Doesn't he get it? He has to by now. After a silent exchange, they turned and stared him down intently.
"…Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Pretending not to know?"
"Huh?"
"Or really clueless?"
Shower. Sleepwear. Climbing. Window. Words that didn't match.
Still, Abel racked his brain. And offered a logical guess.
"Oh. Nightmares?"
"Good grief."
Irshu and Tarshu let out synchronized gasps of exasperated awe. That nudged another possibility to the forefront of Abel's mind—one he'd dismissed as impossible, mismatched to the genre.
Even for him, panic was inevitable now.
"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. You two."
"Finally got it."
"Took you long enough."
"…Not what I think, right?"
Not full-on adult content, but teen-friendly teasing? Totally plausible in romance fantasy. After some flirty buildup, this progression wasn't a stretch. Problem was, it was happening to him, out of nowhere. They had some connection as fiancées, but no emotional buildup. Made it all the more bewildering.
"To bed, Abel."
"We'll explain in bed."
The duo closed in from left and right, like snow leopard sisters stalking prey. Spot an opening, pounce, pin, drag to bed.
But the target was Abel. No way he'd fall to snow leopards. As they lunged, he blocked Irshu with his right hand, Tarshu with his left. Just pressing their foreheads with two fingers left them flailing helplessly.
"Calm down."
"Eek."
"Hng."
Back home after dealing with four headaches, and now this? Staring at the wriggling snow leopards—no, twin duchesses—Abel grew ever more confused.
"I'm a bit flustered here. What's the intention?"
"Exactly what it looks like."
"Abel's ours."
"So why? Nothing's happened between us to warrant this."
Romance could go both ways. Men and women were fated to connect. But it needed some buildup. Jumping straight to overnight intimacy with no prior bond? Absurd.
Political marriage? Neither Ascal Kingdom nor Winter Duchy had reason for that. Their peoples never crossed paths; no need for such ties.
"Explain, please."
He nudged Irshu and Tarshu back gently, demanding details.
They shared a look, then began.
"North needs strong men."
"Or strong men's essence."
"…Sadly, that tracks."
So they saw him as strong, and true to northern women, decided to claim him first. Cute snow leopard declaration.
"Earlier. You said more stamina training."
"Perfect. Can train stamina in bed too."
"What are you two even saying? Is that okay to just blurt out?"
"Fine for strong, handsome man."
"Fine for future husband."
With that, Irshu and Tarshu lunged again in sync. Abel swiftly repelled their foreheads with a sigh.